Chapter 76

Harrison had spoken grandiosely of "salvation," but the order he handed down was as predictable as it was tedious: collect the secret treasures scattered throughout the Kingdom. In this context, "secret treasures" referred to a collection of legendary weapons, including the sword kept as a family heirloom by House Griffith.

While several of these would temporarily pass into Harrison’s possession, they were destined to eventually fall into the hands of the Protagonist’s Party. Framed like that, the mission sounded like simple larceny, but since they were essential obtainable items in terms of game mechanics, there was no helping it.

According to the lore, these secret treasures were legendary armaments forged from shards of a massive Solid Astral Body—the very core of the planet. Since the methods for processing Solid Astral Bodies had been lost to time, these were one-of-a-kind relics that could never be reproduced.

Their value went beyond mere national treasures; they were essentially world-class cultural heritage sites in weapon form. The fact that the Protagonist’s Party would eventually swing these things around in the heat of combat spoke volumes about their nerves. Of course, pointing that out to them was a waste of breath. If they didn't use them to fight, the Continent would sink. When weighing the cultural value of a few relics against the fate of the world, it didn't take a genius to see which way the scales tipped.

More important than the ethics of museum-grade weaponry, however, was the fact that the original story was finally beginning. Harold needed to start making his own moves.

Per Harrison’s instructions, their first destination was, conveniently enough, Rainer’s village. But before that, Harold intended to take every preparatory action available to him.

The day before the operation was set to begin, Harold found himself in a certain eatery. It was an establishment connected to the Giffelt Clan, a front used specifically for exchanging information with El.

The exterior looked appropriately dilapidated, but the interior was reasonably clean. After Harold provided the staff with the code number he had been given, he was ushered into a private room.

It’s basically an Izakaya system, he thought, reminiscing about his previous life while he waited. A few minutes later, the door slid open, and El stepped inside.

El was currently stationed at the Frieri base. However, true to his word, he had appeared exactly at the designated time and place after Harold sent word that he wanted to meet. It was impressive, if not slightly terrifying. Just how deep and meticulous was their hidden information network?

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Just sit."

"No preamble, as always," El said with a "good grief" expression as he took a seat.

Before diving into the main topic, Harold had to confirm one detail.

"Is it certain our conversation won't be overheard?"

"I guarantee it. The area has been cleared, and we’re monitoring for any suspicious tails. If there’s even the slightest irregularity, I’ll know immediately."

If El was that confident, it was good enough for Harold. He began to outline the plan for the following day.

"Tomorrow, I’m leaving the Royal Capital on the orders of a man named Harrison. Are you familiar with him?"

"Of course. The recently appointed Minister of Military Affairs."

"Justus is the one pulling his strings. Whether the man himself realizes it or not, this excursion is part of Justus’s strategy."

"That certainly smells like trouble. And the objective?"

"Breaking into a private residence to steal a family sword."

"My, what a petty little task. Quite unlike you, Harold."

"Leave it. The plan is for us to act as puppets without the ability to speak. We won't show our faces, and we won't talk. We are merely there to carry out Harrison’s orders."

"So Harrison doesn't know you're one of the 'puppets.' And who do you mean by 'we'?"

"There are two others—genuine dolls Justus created by tampering with the bodies of the Stella Clan. As I said, they lack speech, and their emotions have likely been thoroughly excised. They feel no fear; they are soldiers who will march toward death without hesitation to fulfill an order."

El’s expression didn't so much as flicker during the explanation. He wasn't the type to be easily shaken.

That resilience was proof of the harrowing situations El had survived. As long as he was an ally, he was incredibly reliable. If El were ever to abandon him, Harold’s situation would become dire in an instant; he was the kind of person Harold would beg on his hands and knees to keep in his camp.

"Is there anything I should be wary of regarding those two?" El asked.

"Justus can move them at will. They’ll follow my commands for now, but his priority is higher. Also, don't trust the claim that they can't speak at face value. It's best not to let them overhear anything unnecessary."

"I see. So, once again, Harold is moving while trying to outmaneuver Justus."

It was the truth, but hearing it put so bluntly made Harold’s heart heavy. Outmaneuvering Justus was a constant tightrope walk, even with his knowledge of the original story. In fact, he lived in a state of constant anxiety that Justus might have already seen through him.

"So, how should Frieri be involved in this?"

El got straight to the point. As his words implied, he was already deeply involved in running Frieri.

Harold still had no idea exactly when or how El had made contact with the organization. All he knew was that by the time he had returned from the celebration party at House Berlioz—the one Itsuki had trapped him into attending—the initial contact had already been made.

He couldn't even imagine how El had slipped past Justus’s surveillance. Given the timing and the location of the base, El would have had to start moving almost immediately after their "date" in the Royal Capital to make it work.

Yet, Harold knew for a fact that El hadn't made such a move then. He must have utilized the full power of the Giffelt Clan. They were truly an extraordinary group.

"A red-haired man named Rainer and a blonde woman named Colette. These two will likely pursue us."

"That's very specific. Friends of yours?"

"...Something like that. Going forward, Frieri is to support those two."

"I take it this isn't a one-time job, then?"

"No. And I'll tell you this much: doing so will lead to your own long-cherished goal."

"...I see. In that case, I'll put my heart and soul into it—and then some."

"See that you do. However, for this first encounter, just establish a connection. You are not to reveal that you know me, nor that we have any prior acquaintance."

"Understood. Act as a stranger. I assume there are complicated reasons for that? Any room for prying?"

"None."

"Fair enough."

Though there were many gaps, El didn't push for answers. He likely realized that Harold wouldn't indulge him even if he asked. For Harold, who was always one slip of the tongue away from disaster, El's professional restraint was a godsend.

"But won't that put me in opposition to you?"

"It doesn't matter. Even if we clash, they won't be a threat to me."

That was a lie, of course, but Frieri wouldn't be directly involved when Harold and Rainer fought anyway. El's primary role would be providing information—or more accurately, subtly guiding them to ensure they moved according to the original story script.

To be honest, there weren't many parts of the plot that strictly required Frieri’s intervention, but since there were certain points where the story would reach a dead end without them, Harold had felt compelled to establish the organization. Having a force he could deploy at will was a vital trump card. Should an emergency occur outside the original script, the effort spent on Frieri would not be in vain.

After they hammered out the fine details of the day's movements and rendezvous points, they disbanded.

The following day, Harold left the Royal Capital with the two automatons. After half a day on an Airship, they spent another half-day crammed into a public carriage, followed by three more days of transferring between coaches. Finally, they reached the town just a stone's throw away from Brosche Village, where Rainer lived.

Under the guise of recovering from the long journey, they stayed the night in town to kill time until El’s group caught up.

Harold booked three separate rooms at the inn. Part of it was his own desire for privacy, but he also had complicated feelings regarding his companions.

They were called "dolls," they had no names, and they were said to possess no emotions, but they were still living human beings. If they didn't eat or sleep, they would wither and weaken. Furthermore, in the original game, there were scenes suggesting their lost emotions had eventually returned.

They were human. Justus himself, the man who had "created" them, had once mentioned that their seemingly lost emotions were merely dormant. It might have been wishful thinking, but Harold believed there was a chance they could be restored to normal if they survived until the end.

He didn't want to view them as mere tools, and he couldn't bring himself to do so.

Perhaps it was guilt. These two had been taken captive during the battle in Bertis Forest. If he had handled things better back then, they might never have been dragged into this.

Logically, of course, the fault lay with Justus and Harrison, not Harold. His guilt was misplaced, but it was exactly because he couldn't be purely rational that it weighed on him so heavily.

Still, dwelling on it wouldn't change the past. Harold decided to move forward with the stance of "respecting them as individuals as much as possible."

To start, he ordered them into their rooms to rest and recover. Without a direct command, they would likely have stood blankly in their rooms until the following night. They were perfectly obedient, but their refusal to take any action not explicitly ordered was a hurdle.

Next time, maybe I'll try ordering them to 'address basic biological needs autonomously,' Harold thought as he stepped out to scout the town.

He wore his usual black cloak, but for this mission, the swords at his waist were different. Instead of his signature pair, he carried a single, unremarkable blade. If he used his iconic weapons against Rainer, his identity as the man in the black robe would eventually be exposed.

He also chose not to wear the black robe that served as the trio’s "uniform" while in town. Wandering around in such an outfit would only draw suspicion, and a group of three in black robes would be far too memorable. Since they were guaranteed to become wanted thieves by the following night, he wanted to minimize any trail that could lead back to them.

He had been slightly worried that showing his face might lead to someone recognizing the infamous Harold Stokes, but in this rural backwater, it turned out to be a needless fear. No one pointed fingers; no one gasped in recognition. It seemed his infamy diminished in direct proportion to the distance from the Royal Capital.

Thanks to that, he was able to scout the town in relative peace—though his "stroll" was entirely devoid of leisure, focusing solely on escape routes and meeting points with El.

During his walk, an idea struck him.

He would try to learn the real names of the two Stella Clan members. If they didn't remember, he would give them names himself. It would be more practical and might even foster some sense of familiarity.

Even if they couldn't speak, their intelligence and cognitive abilities weren't gone. Unless their memories had been completely wiped, they should be able to communicate through writing.

A stroke of genius! he thought, only to feel dejected a second later when he realized it had taken him several days to notice something so simple. If El or Justus were in his shoes, they would have realized it the moment the two were introduced.

Whenever he compared himself to them, he felt the gap in their calibers and nearly lost heart. Nevertheless, this hunch of Harold’s was destined to be right on the mark.